Turning Back
by Lightish Red
Summary: Jacqueline deals with her feelings after the 'dream' in the episode Invincible Sword. Based on characters from PAXi's Young Blades television series.
1. Return to Normalcy

Chapter 1 Return to Normalcy

_What I wouldn't give to smell sweet…_ Jacqueline thought as she rinsed her face over a shallow basin of water in her room. Even now, she could remember the soft scent of her mother's homemade soap, an herb mixture that kept their simple farmhouse smelling fresh as spring though the oppressive heat of summer to the depths of winter. Jacqueline would never know what the recipe was; her mother had always said she would teach it to her on the day before she married…

But that life was over. This was no time to be frivolously thinking of marriage and childhood soap. Jacqueline had to worry about something bigger than her own comforts; she had to concentrate on Mazarin's next plot and the King's safety. With that recent assassination attempt—_Stop!_

Jacqueline gripped the sides of the basin and closed her eyes. She had already gone down that path. It led to her secret's discovery and the d'Artagnan's death.

_Would I of really done it? Killed him?_ She shuddered involuntarily at the thought. A darker side had been revealed to her that fateful morning, only three days past.

But she had thrown the sword far away. Surely she could just forget about the whole episode and focus on her work. D'Artagnan had beaten her twice during drills since that day. He had gloated for sure, but for once it did not bother Jacqueline. Whenever she had seen an opening to strike, she would see him lying bloodied and dying on the floor.

That brought another uncomfortable thought: his last words had been "I love you."

Almost as if her thoughts had summoned him, d'Artagnan opened the door. Startled and not fully dressed, Jacqueline reached for her rapier. Her arm dropped down to her side when she realized who it was.

"Didn't I tell you to knock?" she spat at him, more annoyed at her own forgetfulness at the door being unlocked than at him. Pulling on her jacket, she looked around for a clean cloth to dry her dripping face with.

D'Artagnan produced one from the table by the door and tossed it over to her. Jacqueline thanked him with a small nod as her replied, "I did. You didn't answer, so I came in to make sure you were okay." He raised his hands in self-defense. Flashing his trademark grin, he continued, "And it is a good thing I did. If Siroc of Ramon came in, they might have noticed that you were a little more… curvy… than the other men."

Jacqueline looked up sharply. She did not think that he remembered anything about the sword-dream, but over the last few days he had continued to give her feelings of deja-vu. He had made a similar comment right before that night…

-----

_He opened the door, and I jumped to my feet, scrambling for my sword, fearing an attack. "It's me. Not an assassin, musketeer."_

_Dropping my weapon, I replied, "You should knock."_

"_And you should wear your jacket," he said, closing the door behind him. "The King may not know much about women, but he knows that men don't make their shirts so… curvy." Advancing across the room, he went on, "You're taking a big risk moving in here. At least at the garrison you had me to… help keep your secret."_

_I looked back at him, infuriated at his casualness. "I can't worry about my secret; I have to worry about the King's protection."_

"_Why? Why now, more than ever before? There's a palace guard, a garrison full of musketeers—we all protect the King."_

_My voice rose in intensity. "Yes, but only I have the sword. Only I can fend off any attack."_

"_It's a nice sword, but can you really believe it makes you unstoppable?" I looked down. "We're supposed to be working together."_

_I sat down on the bed in defeat; he was right. "I could really use some help."_

"_That's more like it," he said, sounding more at ease._

"_I don't feel like I can trust anyone."_

"_You know who you can trust." I looked up, and he sat down next to me. "Whatever you need me to do."_

_He looked so sincere that I smiled. "That means a lot to me." His face was close to mine, and he smiled that maddening grin; I had to break the intensity. "Is that how you charm all those women?" I asked in a joking tone._

_He broke off his gaze with a slight laugh, "I just mean… as a friend." He locked my eyes again in such an honest gaze that I could only nod my acceptance. I needed more reassurance, so I asked, "But you meant it?"_

_He nodded back at me, no hesitation. Something inside me started to tug at this full offer of friendship with no strings attached. Before I could comprehend it, my arms were wrapped around his neck and our lips were touching in a kiss._

_I pulled back after a moment, looking for a reaction. "Wow." His eyes opened, "That was—"_

"_Almost perfect," I broke in, shaking my hair from its tied back male style down into feminine curls. "Now it's perfect." I went back to his lips for more._

-----

Jacqueline was jolted out of her daydream when d'Artagnan shut the door behind him and spoke softly, "Are you all right? You've been so quiet and slow since the fight. You weren't hurt were you?" He took a step forward, arm reaching out and concern in his eyes. He could remember seeing her fly across the room and crashing into a stone wall to land on the hearth below with a sickening thud. He had drawn his rapier instantaneously and rushed in with Siroc and Ramon to stop the crazed man from delivering the death blow.

Jacqueline pulled back from his offered hand. "No, I'm fine," came out a little harsher than she had meant it. D'Artagnan regarded her a little distrustfully, and his eyes flicked up and down her body as though checking for a weakness. Jacqueline squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze when she recalled another thing he had said that night, "I've dreamt of this."

"Really, I'm fine," she tried to set his mind at rest with a small smile. When their eyes met again, her cheeks reddened, and she hid her face by intently fastening her jacket's buttons.

Thankfully, d'Artagnan had come for a reason. "Well then, Ramon and Siroc are waiting to go to the Café for breakfast. Care to join us?" That flirtatious tone was back. Jacqueline nodded, collecting her rapier and locking the door behind her as they left.

They met their friends outside the garrison and walked together down the busy street, following their noses. Jacqueline made only noncommittal responses to Ramon's rhapsodizing and Siroc's proposal for some new invention. She still could not forget what she had done to Ramon. _He saved my life, and I scorned him, sending him to die in a dungeon!_

The four musketeers claimed a back table, and Jacqueline found herself across from Siroc, picturing the look of disbelief and almost horror he had worn when Mazarin had revealed her secret. D'Artagnan sat down beside her, their knees bumping under the table. She glanced at him sideways to see if it was intentional, but found no hidden motives on his face. _I really am getting paranoid…_

Again, Jacqueline's thoughts turned back to the sword. _It's gone_, she told herself firmly and focused on eating and trying to act normal.

Well, as normal as a woman hiding from murder charges by dressing as a man and musketeer could be.


	2. Realization

Chapter 2 Realization

Jacqueline ate with as much enthusiasm as she could muster and even managed to crack a few halfhearted jokes when a pretty blonde turned down Ramon's dreadful poetry. Siroc explained his plan for a liquid that could take out stains from clothes without discoloring them, and d'Artagnan described his latest acquaintance, to Jacqueline's undying disgust. She finally worked up enough courage to excuse herself and walked back to the garrison.

Closing the heavy wooden door firmly, she calmly pressed her back against the stone wall beside it. A few seconds later, the door reopened to admit d'Artagnan. He scanned around the room and let out a grunt of surprise when Jacqueline twisted his arm painfully behind his back and pinned him to the wall.

"Why were you following me?" she demanded, shaking him for added effect.

"What's got into you, Jacqueline?" he asked back in a low voice as he tried to look over his shoulder to make eye contact.

She shoved him again. "Don't ever call me that!" she growled. D'Artagnan easily twisted out of her grip and pinned her back to the wall, his hands on her arms. Jacqueline mentally cursed her sex for physical inferiority.

_If I could just reach my sword…_, she thought. Jacqueline then paused, _And what would I do with it? Cut his heart out?_ She sagged against the wall, losing her desire to fight.

"Now that's more like it," d'Artagnan said as he released her. "Can we carry on in a more private area?" he inquired.

"In case you've forgotten, I have patrol duty," Jacqueline shrugged off the feel of his hands pressing on her. She stalked off like an angry cat towards the barn. Luckily, he did not follow.

Inside the stables, she was comforted by the familiar warm scent of horses and hay. Her dappled grey mare, Neige _Snow_, greeted her with a warm snort to her offered hand. Being the only mare in the barn, Jacqueline had sympathized and chosen the horse as her mount. She proceeded to flick bits of hay and dust off the horse's back, lost in her thoughts.

-----

"_Your Majesty, I am here to allow you to personally ascertain innocence or guilt," I stated, ignoring the fact that I had been summoned here. I stood between d'Artagnan and Siroc facing King Louis, Queen Anne, and Mazarin._

_The latter whispered into the young King's ear, "I approve, Your Majesty." Although I was surprised he agreed with me, I chalked it up to luck. I began to doubt luck, however, when he walked around the Queen and continued, "Masquerading as the opposite sex to deceive the crown is a treasonable offence punishable by death…" He looked into the face of Siroc who shifted uneasily. I took in a shallow breath; surely he could not have…_

"… _which can only be handed down by His Highness," Mazarin acknowledged the King with a nod as I tried to control my pounding heart and hold on to my innocent façade. With no warning, he ripped the fake hair from my chin as I gasped. "A traitor, a liar, and a murderer, Your Highness. Jacqueline Roget, not Jacques Lepont," he announced, voice carrying throughout the large room as he unrolled the wanted poster with my likeness on it. "Wanted for the murder of the captain of my guard."_

_Confusion came over the face of Louis; Siroc openly gaped; and d'Artagnan stiffened beside me. "Not murder! Justice! That swine killed my father!" I practically yelled my defense._

"_Wait. You're a woman?" the King squeaked. Queen Anne's eyes flicked up and down me._

"_What does it matter if a man or woman protects you from the conspirators that surround you?" I motioned accusatorily at Mazarin._

_Mazarin circled back around behind the King to advise. "She's a deceiver, Your Majesty. Have her arrested."_

_The poison slid right through Louis' mind. "Yes, d'Artagnan, take her into custody." Now d'Artagnan was caught in a trap—his feelings for me versus his duty to the King._

_I took his moment of hesitation to draw my sword. "He'll have to kill me," I said, eyes narrowing as all parties jumped away._

_Blade drawn, d'Artagnan had the nerve to appeal to me, "We'll petition His Majesty for clemency. We'll ask for exile." Frantically louder, he called, "Your Majesty, you would consider exile would you not?"_

_Again his eyes turned to me and he begged, "I served you faithfully."_

"_Don't bargain for me," I cut in, "bargain for your own life. I wield the invincible sword—"_

-----

Jacqueline was interrupted when horsehair tickled her nose and caused her to sneeze three times in quick succession. She then realized something, _He had said 'we.' We will ask for clemency. We will ask for exile._

Startled by this new discovery, Jacqueline hurried about tacking up the mare. On her way out, only a young, curly haired recruit, Sebastien, saw her head out towards the Northwest Gate.

She maneuvered easily through the mid-morning crowds of Paris. Most knew to stay away from a Musketeer with such a look of determination on his face. Once outside the city walls, Jacqueline left the main road for a forest path that led to the river. It meandered along the banks and would bring her to a clearing where she had once celebrated a successful mission with Ramon, Siroc, d'Artagnan, and some good drinks.

For most of the way, she let Neige have her head to pick her way through fallen logs and rocks. Jacqueline was simply floating; she had no thoughts and relished in the comfort of isolation. No pretenses to keep up, no flirtations, just a woman and a horse.

To cheer her spirits, Jacqueline kicked Neige into a fast hand gallop to cover the last stretch of trail to the clearing. What she did not expect to find was d'Artagnan walking his lathered horse at the end.


	3. Blur

Chapter 3 Blur

The peace that had smoothed her face was replaced with an anger that caused her forehead to wrinkle. _How dare he follow me!_

D'Artagnan smiled at her, "This obsession of yours has got to stop, Jacqueline. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get me alone."

Her frustration and annoyance caused her to physically tremble. Jacqueline slid unsteadily off her mount and drew her weapon. "Just say it again…"

His grin widened as he drew his rapier, "I said you were trying to get me alone." He matched her footwork as she slowly circled. Jacqueline made the first move, cutting in from the left. D'Artagnan blocked easily and returned with a downward curve that Jacqueline just as easily avoided. She drove in with a flurry of swipes that forced him to give ground. He backed off; Jacques was back.

"Why are you here?" Jacqueline called, watching for the opportune moment.

D'Artagnan replied lightly, as though they were merely having a conversation rather than a duel. "It was simple, actually. See, it took me all of five minutes to realize that you don't patrol on Sundays." Jacqueline charged in and the sound of steel clashing rang in the clearing.

"So I made my way outside," d'Artagnan jumped sideways to avoid a cut, "and found a very nice young fellow who recognized me and became so eager to help that I couldn't turn him down." Jacqueline dodged a slice herself and spun out, ready for the next round.

"I then made my way to the Northwest Gate where I noticed a delightful looking lady who recalled seeing a 'rather handsome' musketeer go by only moments before." Jacqueline growled and charged. D'Artagnan was ready and stepped aside to unbalance her attack. Her blade sailed out of her hand to clatter to the ground behind her. "Those were her exact words, I believe."

D'Artagnan's blade leveled at her throat, Jacqueline met his laughing eyes with a narrowed gaze. Suddenly, she flipped backwards, landing in just the right spot to pick up the rapier and shrug at d'Artagnan's stunned look.

"And then?" she prompted, cold smile on her own face. D'Artagnan's jaw snapped shut as he braced himself.

"Then it was just a matter of beating your old nag there," he recovered.

Jacqueline struck back, fast and hard, driving him backwards to trip over a tree root sticking out of the ground. Now it was she who held a blade at someone's throat. "Never insult my horse," she told him coolly, pressing the tip under his chin. D'Artagnan still smirked at her, but she could see a hint of fear in his eyes.

Her vision blurred…

-----

_I stood with the smooth grip of the sword in my hand watching d'Artagnan. He whirled with a look of disbelief across his and collapsed backwards, a bloody gash open across his abdomen._

_It took me a split second to react; I dropped the sword onto the marble floor but never heard the crash. I slid across the floor to d'Artagnan._

_His eyes found mine, and he whispered, "Jacques… Jacqueline, I love you." His eyes closed and his body relaxed._

"_Hey… hey… no! No," I called weakly, looking at the wound I had given him. "Oh dear Lord, forgive me… Nooo!"_


	4. A Mistake

Chapter 4 A Mistake

Jacqueline's eyes fluttered open. She turned to the side, coughing up the water d'Artagnan had just poured into her face. Breathing heavily, she sat up slowly, and the trees spun around her. She put a hand to her head and choked out, "What happened?"

D'Artagnan kneeled on the ground beside her. "You had me disarmed, and then you just fell over," he explained. "You alright?" he stretched out his hands to check her skull for a fracture.

Jacqueline winced as his fingers probed bruises and scrapes. Waving him away, she sat up fully and cradled her head in her hands. She moaned, "Ugh! Again…"

"What again?" d'Artagnan asked as he sat more easily on the ground.

Jacqueline tried to come up with something, but her pounding head only allowed her to tell the truth, "A dream. Well, a nightmare really." She peered though her hands to see d'Artagnan's eyebrow rise in interest.

"And what happened in this dream?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Jacqueline said shortly, shifting her aching head onto one palm as she pulled the loose hair out of her face with the other so she could see him.

"I can't help you if you won't talk to me," he said frankly. "You've been acting odd since that fight in the palace. I think you at least owe me an explanation."

Jacqueline regarded him silently. _I owe you so much more than that…_ She slowly leaned forward to touch her lips to his.

It felt right, like it felt right in her dream. Yet reality caught up with her; she pulled back. "I shouldn't have done that." She wiped her mouth as though she could erase what had just happened.

For once d'Artagnan was speechless. Jacqueline might have enjoyed it more if she had not just embarrassed herself by losing control again. _Again? It never actually happened the first time,_ she chided herself mentally.

The silence was too heavy for her to stand. "Forget it, okay?" Jacqueline glanced away to brush away a tear forming in her eye. _Why are you crying, foolish girl?_ She sniffed and looked back. D'Artagnan's lips caught hers again as she turned, and she could not resist; her strength had already been drained.

Tears slid unchecked down her cheeks. D'Artagnan broke abruptly when he tasted the salt. Jacqueline looked down again and rubbed her eyes with a free hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you," he hastened to say, dumfounded to see her spirit so broken. She usually guarded her emotions like she guarded her secret—behind a high, stone wall. He tentatively gripped her shoulder in comfort.

"No. It's my fault. I can't be a musketeer and a woman; I can't handle it all right now." Jacqueline met his eyes forcefully, "And I cannot ask you to guard another secret about me, or us."

"It doesn't have to be like that. You may be Jacques around everyone else, but when you're with me, you are always Jacqueline," he searched her eyes with his own.

The tears had stopped. Jacqueline shook her head slowly but did not openly argue. She would leave that to another day's duel.

D'Artagnan cleared his throat, "What about this dream?" Jacqueline was startled. She had totally forgotten what had started this whole mess.

Uncertainly, she began, "Please, be sure that you want to hear this. It involves some rather… uncomfortable thoughts." She winced.

"I'm sure," d'Artagnan replied, softly but confidently.

Jacqueline took a deep breath. "It started during the fight. When I fell, Ramon rushed in alone to save me. The sword cut across his abdomen before I could get up and run the crazed man through.

"He was injured pretty badly. The King sent his own personal physician to check on him. Siroc was furious when he bled him; Duval had to kick us all out of the room.

"I was praying for Ramon when you found me saying that the King was coming to honor me at the garrison the next day. You called me a hero," Jacqueline smiled an ironic grin.

"Go on," d'Artagnan prompted.

"The next day, Louis presented me with the man's sword. I was raising it up for the crowd to see when an assassin shot an arrow straight for the King. The sword gave me the reflexes to cut the bolt from midair. I took off running and threw the sword right through his leg as he ran.

"I accompanied Duval to the palace later to report directly to the King. Now I can see that I was out of line; I spoke over the Captain and accused the assassin of being a Spanish assassin without much proof.

"I returned to the garrison that night and found Brother Antoine, Siroc, and you tending to Ramon. I rejected him in his moment of suffering," Jacqueline shook her head again, not wanting to go on but not able to stop either.

-----

_I sat polishing the blade lovingly in front of the fireplace. "What's got into you?" d'Artagnan asked angrily, coming up from behind me._

"_What are you talking about?" I replied, barely glancing up._

"_You're different. The Jacqueline I know would be by Ramon's side giving comfort."_

"_There's nothing I can do—"_

"_He saved your life!" he interrupted._

"_Well I didn't ask for his help," I shot back, looking at him as defiant as ever. I had had everything under control. "Anyway, that's what soldiers do." I returned to my task._

"_Stop polishing that sword and look at me," he said, disgust apparent in his voice. _

"_No you look at me!" I shouted, facing him down. "There's an insidious element bent on France's destruction. Can't you see it? Are you blind? You must be vigilant, every moment of every day. What is one life compared to that?"_

_A look of disbelief covered his face. "May I see the sword," he asked quietly._

"_Why?" I replied quickly._

"_I just want to hold it."_

"_I don't want you to."_

"_Why not?"_

"_Because I said so!"_

_D'Artagnan was angry, "Let me see it, Jacques." He grabbed for it._

"_No," my voice rose again, "Stand back! Never touch this sword again. Never! This is what stands between France and her enemies; do you see that?"_

_He looked at me the way one might regard a usually friendly dog that had just bitten him. "I'm sorry, d'Artagnan," I looked back at the sword in my lap. "It's just that I would prefer the blade stay in my hands."_

_He stalked off without another word. My narrowed eyes followed him to the door before returning to my precious blade._


	5. Anything Else

Chapter 5 Anything Else

Jacqueline continued her tale, talking about becoming the King's Special Protector and moving in to the palace as d'Artagnan listened thoughtfully. She found herself at the part of the story where d'Artagnan had come into her room to talk, and she had jumped on him like one of his barmaid 'friends.' She took a deep breath and decided to skip it. _He doesn't need to know about my little fantasy_, she told herself. _It would only encourage him_.

She got to the part where she had charged in, flanked by Cardinal's guards, to accuse Siroc, d'Artagnan, and Duvall of aiding in Ramon's escape. "We were then summoned to the Palace. It must have been Mazarin's doing," she shook her head. "I just don't understand…" Jacqueline trailed off and tried to get back to the point.

"I stood between you and Siroc facing Louis, the Queen, and Mazarin. I was ready to expose you for helping Ramon escape when Mazarin started off on his own speech. Somehow he had discovered my secret. I first blamed you; you were the only one that could get angry enough to expose me—"

"I would never tell your secret. I will take it to the grave," he quickly assured her. Jacqueline shuddered internally, _He said that before, too._

She nodded her head in acceptance. "I know that, but the sword did things to my mind… I can't even begin to explain."

Jacqueline sighed again, _Now the hard part._ She focused her gaze on the dirt ground. "Louis ordered you to arrest me, and I drew the blade. You tried to reason with me; you asked the King to consider exile. For us." She glanced up quickly at the pause to see a reaction, but d'Artagnan's face was blank.

"What happened next?" he asked quietly.

"You tried to disarm me without hurting me, but I was merciless," she choked as tears threatened to spill. _God, forgive me._ "I killed you."

The words hung in the air; d'Artagnan stared at Jacqueline strangely. She gasped for breath, feeling like she had just been knocked down in a fight. Neither spoke.

D'Artagnan abruptly stood. "Anything else I should know?" His tone was as cold as bare steel.

Jacqueline scrambled up to stand even with him. "It wasn't me who killed you. I mean, it was me, but it wasn't," she fumbled. "Look, as soon as it happened I dropped the sword and rushed to your side. I was there as you died; I heard your last words; and I prayed for forgiveness." She fought her hand from touching his face. "Then I was all disoriented. Everything that had happened spun around me, and I saw the person I had become. I landed back on the marble floor of the palace about to be run through when Ramon rushed in… You saw what happened from there."

_I'm free,_ she thought, _from one less secret._ A large weight had been lifted from her chest. The fleeting moment passed, however, when she saw d'Artagnan's stunned face.

She struggled, "Please, remember it never happened." This time, she let her hand reach up to touch his cheek. "Never."

He ignored her touch. "Jacqueline, what were my last words?"

She stiffened and looked directly at him. "You said, 'I love you.'"

Jacqueline saw those words echoed in his eyes.

D'Artagnan brushed her hand away lightly, trying to take no notice of the feel of her skin, and turned to the horses. "Ramon and Siroc will be missing us. We should go back." He collected his horse's reins and looked over his shoulder when Jacqueline spoke again.

Rooted to the spot, she said, "There's something I left out. One night, we… we got close." Jacqueline mentally smacked herself, _Why did you say that?_ "But you left before anything really happened."

"I left?" he inquired. When she nodded back, he laughed. Not a small laugh, but one that filled the entire clearing. "I left?"

Jacqueline tittered a little to herself out of embarrassment and stepped quickly over to her mount. D'Artagnan swung up into his saddle still chuckling. "Well, I won't make that mistake again."

Jacqueline glanced at him sharply, and he flashed a rakish grin at her before heading out at a trot towards Paris. She followed a moment behind.

-----

F_arther down the road, they were able to walk side by side, and d'Artagnan noticed Jacqueline squirming in her saddle. "What's wrong, Jacques? Feeling a little constrained?"_

_Jacqueline grimaced as she tried to adjust the binding under her jacket. In all the excitement, it seemed to have shrunk. "Just imagine someone shrinking your underwear while you were wearing them."_

"_Could be fun," he retorted. "Tell you what, after patrol we stop by a lake, we shed these binding clothes and take a dip au naturale." He turned to wink at her._

_She shot him her best look of disgust before becoming distracted by a riderless horse running past them. She looked at d'Artagnan questioningly. "Is that a yes?" he asked._

Ugh! Men! She _kicked Neige into a gallop to chase after the horse herself._


End file.
